New Divide
by Sazerac
Summary: With time, things change. People change. In the past, Allen Walker fell with the Millennium Earl. In the present, trials begin for those living. In the future, Soul Society faces the greatest threat to them ever yet. -—"My name is Sosuke Aizen."—-
1. Chapter 00: The Death

**Title:** New Divide**  
Category:** Bleach and D. Gray-man  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** N/A  
**Summary:** With time, things change. People change. In the past, Allen Walker fell with the Millennium Earl. In the present, trials begin for those living. In the future, Soul Society faces the greatest threat to them ever yet. —_"My name is Sosuke Aizen."—_

**A/N: **This is called New Divide, because it is named after the song New Divide by Linkin Park.

The plot for this is entirely thought out also, and I'd like to take the time to mention that all information is only going to be accurate to chapter, 186 for D. Gray-man and the latest for Bleach. By the latest, I mean I'm pretty much always up to date, and even though the latestish chapters (I'm talking XCUTION and Fullbring here) haven't been relevant to the Aizen saga there's still a possibility for _shikai_s and _bankai_s.

_(Chapter edited 21-04-2011)_

—

**New Divide**

- Prelude -

_The Death..._

—

He knew he was dead.

He could still _smell_ the blood and the carnage. He could still _taste_ the adrenaline that once flooded his veins. He could still _see_ the fury of the Noah retaliating, _ripping each other apart_, as the Earl fell. He could still _feel_ the sweep of the sword he once called his ally, cutting across him before it disintegrated into nothingness, blood so rich...so _sweet_...

He could still _hear_ that ear-splitting cry that resounded in his head, a voice foreign and not his yet still familiar and _his_ at the same time.

He _knew_ he was dead.

Yet, somehow, he knew he was not dead. He was not dead, as he still seemed to be alive and in the living world with the power of his Innocence at his side and the gift of Mana from so so long ago.

But, dead or not, he found himself consumed with a desire to cleanse akuma, a desire so strong that the pain of going Critical became only a graze.

The first akuma he came across was weak, but all the efforts he made to invocate were futile. Only by wishing for any sort of weapon to materialize was a sword created against his waist, and he spent no time in pulling it out and decimating the creature within the blink of an eye.

Oddly, his desire to find more increased with each he cleansed.

He was wrenched out of his musings as he heard that telltale roar of anguish associated with them. Instantly, he summoned his substitute Innocence to his hand, remembering how it was only temporary, and slashed through what was once an ambush.

At the time he did not know that that instant of frozen time would be etched forever.

For that was all that was needed for him to notice a strange man standing before him, wearing black clothing with a contrasting white coat above it. He had kind brown eyes hidden behind strange, square-rimmed glasses, and they watched him. The stranger's arms were up, to indicate he was unarmed. He smiled, taking a few curious steps towards him.

"Good evening, my name is Sosuke Aizen. Could you please tell me what you just did, lost soul?"


	2. Chapter 01: and the Strawberry

**Title:** New Divide**  
Category:** Bleach and D. Gray-man  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** N/A  
**Summary:** With time, things change. People change. In the past, Allen Walker fell with the Millennium Earl. In the present, trials begin for those living. In the future, Soul Society faces the greatest threat to them ever yet. —_"My name is Sosuke Aizen."—_

_(Chapter edited 21-04-2011)_

—

**New Divide**

- Chapter One -

…_and the Strawberry (or carrot-top, in our case)._

—

Kurosaki Ichigo was one very, very, _very_ pissed off...Shinigami, was it?

Heck, he wouldn't remember. It wasn't as if he cared anyway. After all, Soul Society had kidnapped Rukia (how a person can be kidnapped when being taken back to their home he didn't know either) and...uh...to be honest, he didn't know _what_ they'd do to her anyway.

He hoped she wouldn't die because of him.

Actually, he'd woken up a few days ago. In that random shopkeeper guy's house, somehow _under_ his assistant.

He swore that Fate liked playing tricks on him.

But, now, facing the freaky forever-smiling face that promised him that he could get back his powers...well, to say the least, he'd thought it couldn't get any worse.

It was suddenly funny, though, when Urahara pulled out from nowhere his _giant_, allegedly _made-in-one-night_ underground training ground and two wooden practice swords. They were longswords, like a katana so as to resemble his soul cutter yet not be the giant thing at the same time (in fact, compared to his these were toothpicks).

And now he had to fight this white-haired kid that was _younger than him_ (or so it'd seemed)and make sure he could get in a hit.

Oh, and Urahara had apparently just-so-_conveniently_ forgotten to tell him _before they started_ that the kid was a professional.

Which explained why he was currently getting his ass handed to him on a platter.

Forget Fate playing tricks, she and Lady Luck were out drinking again.

He didn't know how long he spent trying to drive away thoughts of how he was going to die (again) and how his body was just lying there and how the hell he was supposed to do _anything_...oh, and how he was seriously, seriously screwed?

Sometimes, Kurosaki Ichigo just hated life.

* * *

After being given at least twenty-nine (metaphorical) heart attacks and nearly on the edge of cardiac arrest (real this time), Ichigo was just glad that that was all over and done with. Getting your soul chain cut and having to climb out a _giant big pit_ while _bound_ and then trying to knock the stupid hat-guy's stupid hat off (hah, he has hat hair!) wasn't really in the description when he signed up. Oh, and can't forget the fact that he nearly _died_ twenty-seven times through in all three challenges...yes, he definitely counted each and every near-death experience he underwent in there.

Well damn, that sucked. Everything did, actually.

So when he heard that he could finally go to save Rukia, he was just hoping that going through all this random crap was worth it.

Actually, he probably just wanted to give that Kuchiki (Rukia's brother, what's-his-name-with-the-girly-face) a little piece of his mind. And that Kanda, yeah.

Damn, that Kanda pissed him off.

He didn't know why, but there was something about him. Maybe it was that odd sword he had by his waist, something that looked like it was meant to be a straight-sword but looked more like a deformed stick with that dark cross-emblazoned hilt and no guard. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, all straight-backed and the only person there with a higher chin then his being his captain. Maybe it was that girly hairdo which rivalled said captain's in stupidity.

Or maybe it was because he immediately called him '_ninjin-topu_' on first sight.

Come on! He was _not_ a carrot top, and he didn't know why people called him that. It wasn't exactly his fault that his hair was naturally _born_ bright neon orange. And idiots aplenty thought it was bleached. He didn't even like bleach, never did. It smelt funny, looked funny and did funny things to people.

Heck, he didn't know why people'd even _name_ something the word 'bleach' in the first place. It was stupid, and whoever did that would have to have been a bigger idiot than that Shinigami himself.

Whatever.

* * *

On second thoughts, Soul Society wasn't too bad.

It still kinda sucked, though.

That gatekeeper – Jidanbou, was it? – was a piece of cake to defeat and gain access into the Seireitei (after all, constantly fighting against the white-haired kid over and over again made you _learn _things), but that stupid guy hiding behind and freaking _waiting_ for them with a bigger, more permanent smile than the hat-dude went and kicked him out. Literally, almost.

Yoruichi didn't really help either: "_That's a _captain_ you're fighting, idiot strawberry! It's better if we retreat and think of a tactical stratagem before we get in!_"

Really, tactical stratagems weren't his forte. Plus, where'd they find that paper to use anyway?

Then some time later, the random Shiba Kukaku seemed to bring her cannon out from nowhere and launch them into Seireitei. Forcibly.

With Lady Luck against him, as per usual, all of them ended up separated. And the even better thing – he landed face-flat on the ground in possibly the worst position in the world when that Allen Walker landed on his feet. Gracefully.

…It was official: everyone freaking hated him.

And to make it worse, two random other Shinigami found them not a moment later.

The two made the best group in the world – a baldy with the shiniest head he had ever seen and an eccentric narcissist who kept going on and on and _on_ about beauty. The narcissist, introducing himself as Yumichika Ayasegawa, was probably the most effeminate person that ever existed.

Yeah, he had it _all_. Hair, check. Eyes that are supposed to be pretty (but weren't), check. Glossy lips, check. Purple/pink/girly colours/whatever…oh his sword, check.

The other person was _just as_ strange. One baldy, apparently by the name of Ikakku Madarame. Strange red markings on the side of his eyes, lots and lots of rippling muscles…were those imprints of _teeth marks_ on his head?

And he fought the baldy, too. Right now…he honestly couldn't remember why he started the fight. Huh. Didn't it have something to do with intruding…he didn't care. Sometime before though, Walker disappeared with the girly dude for their own fight.

But now that he thought about it, why did that white-haired guy come along with him anyway? It wasn't as if he _needed_ to be there, he just tagged along without any further explanation on why the hell he was with them.

No one else seemed to notice he was there, though. No one talked to him, or addressed him, or made any action to show that he _existed_. Heck, not even cheerful bubbly too-happily-oblivious-for-my-own-good _Inoue_ talked to him. It was like he was there, but he _wasn't_.

Not that he cared. If Walker wanted to talk to him or whatever, it wasn't his business. If he wanted to pretend and not exist, who was he to interrupt?

He ducked the throw of Madarame's now-three part stick as it swung past his head dangerously before launching in with his shiny new _zanpakuto_.

Yes; no time for thinking, no time for playing.

Oh that guy was going _down_.

* * *

It was chaos.

Kurosaki Ichigo ran around and through the streets of Seireitei, leaving a trail of twitching and unconscious bodies of poor, unseated Soul Reapers and knocking down each and every new one that dared to come in his way.

"Walker! Damn it, where the hell are you? Just give me a signal or _something_!"

It was _chaos_.

Okay, so he would admit that screaming his words out in a tone loud enough that every single person, creature or thing could hear him within five hundred metres might have been overkill and a bit towards the idiotic side, but he didn't care. They were flies in his mind.

Truth be told, he didn't know why he was looking for the kid anyway. Somewhere inside of him though was this niggling feeling of responsibility that told, no, _commanded_ him to find him and make sure he was safe.

He groaned. All this running and mindless violence wasted far too much energy, and he just needed to take a break. Finding a nearby wall, he rested his head upon it, using his arm as a makeshift cushion. Then he groaned again.

But really, _why him_? Why was _he_ chosen by that Hollow to target, meaning his family was in danger, meaning that Rukia needed to go save his ass, _meaning_ that he got her powers? No, actually – _why_ did he happen to have such an exponentially large _reiatsu_?

Unconsciously, he released his spirit power further and felt a few poor shinigami that were trying to sneak up on him fall down from the force. Irritably, he retracted it and slammed his fist against the wall, releasing all his bottled-up feelings.

The wall broke.

Fighting the urge to facefault, he looked at the street beyond. He saw a mop of familiar white hair staring at him with an unreadable expression on that face.

"Walk –"

Then Ichigo noticed what the other was _doing_.

It turned out that some poor shinigami were also going after him, and by the looks of their remains, more than they went after him. He winced on behalf of the poor guy Walker locked the arm of, and then the sound of cracking and dislocating bone.

It just went to show; even though Walker had a smaller spiritual presence than he, he was less lenient.

"This way."

He headed off in another direction, not looking back to see if Ichigo followed or not. Actually, he spluttered incomprehensibly before following the other's even pace.

At the next intersection, he saw Walker stop abruptly, almost crashing into him. He was about to open his mouth to ask why, but it was then he noticed what the other had before – spiritual presences around them indicating they were surrounded.

"Stop hiding and come out, _cowards_." Walker intoned expressionlessly.

Suddenly the light-coloured walls became dark as shinigami appeared before them flashes of black fabric. None of them looked pleased at his companion's statement, and grumbled angrily amongst themselves.

"Coward?" One spat. "You're the coward if you think we have to hide!"

The grumbles rose in intensity and became shouts of agreement and bellows of challenge. Flashes of metal shone light towards them all at once, as they pulled out their weapons in expectation.

"Excuse me…" he heard a timid voice say suddenly, and a small figure pushed itself through the crowd and before them. He (she? _it?_) promptly tripped as one of the men stuck their feet out and laughed in the humour that they somehow saw in that blatant act of bullying.

Before he could even register what had happened, Walker was facing him, whispering orders and the kid was in his arms. He must've caught him before he landed on the ground and brought him back, by the lack of markings on his face.

Heck, he was _quick_.

"Take him, and go. I'll take care of these fools." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but was silenced with a glare. "Don't. I'll do it without unnecessary bloodshed." Walker turned to face the kid in his arms. "What are your credentials, Fourth Division member?"

The boy trembled. "H-Ha-Hanatarou Ya-Yamada, Seventh Seat of the Fourth Division, s-sir."

He nodded, apparently satisfied. "Go; lead the idiot to the nearest maintenance entrance around the corner of _mizuryuu-juukyuu_. I'll see you there."

None of the conversation made _any_ sense to Ichigo, who couldn't make heads or tails of it, but he knew they were getting away and into a hiding spot. He ignored Hanatarou for the moment to look back at Walker, who unsheathed his sword.

Walker smiled, the end of his katana shifting to form two prongs like the tongue of a snake, and the _tsuka_-hilt changing into what looked like four wings. The shinigami now stared wide-eyed, and some looked like they wanted to run in direct contradiction to their earlier words. They had all collapsed with their knees to the ground, however, so that would have been impossible even if they had tried.

On his back, Hanatarou shivered.

He didn't know why, but he had the feeling that he was supposed to be very afraid of the sudden increase of Walker's spiritual pressure. It wasn't as high as Ichigo's constant, but since the other could suppress it and _control it to_ almost non-existence made knowing his normal drip or maximum potential near impossible.

In response, his instinct told him one thing.

_Run, run, run!_

He turned to leave and barely heard Hanatarou's trembling directions to the location specified earlier. He followed it and managed to get quite a distance away before the pressure lifted, but Walker's last word rang in his ears and his head as the remaining effects in his mind and his instincts refused to calm down.

He didn't look back.

* * *

Allen smiled. He readied his blade and allowed the faux steel to take in the light - light that would soon blind each and every man there.

"_Bankai."_


	3. Chapter 02: Bloodred Conflict

**Title:** New Divide  
**Category:** Bleach and D. Gray-man  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing:** N/A  
**Summary: **With time, things change. People change. In the past, Allen Walker fell with the Millennium Earl. In the present, trials begin for those living. In the future, Soul Society faces the greatest threat to them ever yet. —"_My name is Sosuke Aizen."—_

**A/N:** Just remember that Ichigo doesn't know Yoruichi's _not_ a guy yet. Fufufufu/shot

I have removed all the unnecessary Japanese, and thus the Senzaikyuu is referred to with its literal translation, the Palace of Remorseful Sin. Didn't think they were all so jarring until I read this story over again...derp. But anyway, hopefully I'll update soon. Hurrhurr.

(All these chapter titles, mind you, are from Bleach chapters. Just so you know c':)

—

**New Divide**

- Chapter Two -

_Bloodred Conflict_

—

"Where are we?"

The addressed - Yamada Hanatarou - merely sniffled, curling himself up into an even tighter ball. Ichigo sighed and leant against the wall himself, before sliding down and resting in an awkward squat.

"I don't suppose you know where _he_ is, either," he remarked, more to himself than anyone else without expecting a reply.

It had been this way since Walker did…_something_…with his reiatsu and his zanpakuto, and had given them orders to head to the maintenance point. Soon enough, Ichigo discovered the real meaning behind those words, entering the sewer network underneath Seireitei and having to wait.

And wait.

And _wait_.

Walker still hadn't returned. Ichigo was getting sick and tired of waiting in the tunnel and staring at the ceiling in boredom. Hanatarou continued to whimper as he did after they entered, shaking whilst mumbling things under his breath and speaking incoherent sentences to himself out loud.

The last one _might_ have included the topic of pizza.

By now, thoroughly bored and pissed off and whatever it was that he felt, Ichigo pulled out his own zanpakuto and began some practice dances to warm up. They were given to him by Urahara in one of his books, and intended to train the flow of the user's sword during battle. It was the only 'gift' from the perverted hat-guy that didn't have ulterior motives behind it.

_Half-step left -swish, sweep; quarter-turn back, step-up- pass -_

He growled as he dropped the sword during as the spirit particles under his foot un-solidified, forcing him down. Right now he was far too tense to deal with creating platforms out of reishi, and it showed through in his application of zanjutsu. When Hanatarou curled _even closer_ to himself, Ichigo realised that his own reiatsu had been flaring. As a result, he spent the next few minutes doing some breathing exercises to calm himself down. Deciding that the practice dances were hopeless, he decided to work on individual techniques instead.

He didn't know how long he spent practicing and trying to refine the _Cascading Brilliance Seventh Waterfall _before he was struck with a new thought. If he was _this_ useless and kept tripping over his feet during the simplest techniques of swordsmanship, there was no chance of improving and defeating Kanda, let alone Ichimaru Gin. And weren't Captain-level Shinigami _guarding_ Rukia?

"I have no _idea_ how I'm supposed to save her at this rate if I can't defeat those captains," he muttered to himself, before attempting the _backhand sweep form_ once more.

Halfway through, Zangetsu was taken from his hands. The action had been so unexpected that he found himself looking into the eyes of Allen Walker.

"This is how you can defeat a captain." Walker began abruptly and Ichigo stared - he hadn't even sensed the other's arrival, so how long was he watching him?

Walker looked over the stance disapprovingly, before Ichigo felt himself being reacquainted with the ground. A little too late, he realized that the other had launched his leg out faster than he could see.

"Lesson One: Always ensure that your stance is properly balanced. This way it becomes easier to launch multiple forms of attack and to _dodge, block and parry._"

Ichigo had known there were problems, but complained anyway when he realized the insult behind the words. You_ were the one that surprised me, geez._

"Lesson Two: Do not show emotional weakness before the enemy." Ichigo jerked, but realized that his face had to have made his frustration clear, if not that then his irritated grumbling. "You were the one at fault for being surprised. Doing so allows them to take advantage and typically means defeat."

As Ichigo attempted to stand up, he was forced down again by a sudden blow to the ribs.

"Lesson Three: Always be unpredictable. Then it will be impossible for your opponent to predict your next move." _You're unpredictable enough in the first place. _"And Lesson Four: _Take advantage of any weakness they may show_."

Ichigo doubled over in pain. Walker had just hit his solar plexus, _hard_.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Walker looked at him, as if to say, _are you an idiot?_ "Isn't it obvious? You want to save Rukia Kuchiki, don't you? With the way you're fighting right now you wouldn't even be able to surpass a vice-captain, even though you defeated a person on the same skill level as one a while ago, Madarame." The other looked as if he were about to interrupt. "Any captain would be able to either avoid or withstand those attacks I just launched, Kurosaki Ichigo; and those are lieutenant tricks. You need to learn how to defeat people with _skill_ rather than overwhelming reiatsu and brute _strength_."

At this point, Ichigo suddenly decided that a change of subject would be necessary to avoid further listing of his failures. Unfortunately, Walker was the one who initiated it.

"Those practice dances and techniques are from _Violet Sky Withering Rose Zanjutsu_, aren't they? The copy that Urahara had?" He smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile, it was a, _you have got to hear this_ type of smile. "That book fell out of fashion in Soul Society twenty years ago, and it was intentionally targeted for women."

...Women.

He knew it had to have been too good to be true.

* * *

A long long way away in the Human World, Urahara Kisuke hummed idly. Yes, the artificial hot springs of his underground training arena were _divine!_ He deserved the break too, since he had just finished cleaning and tidying up the Urahara Shoten. He hadn't done manual labour such as that for too many years!

He inadvertently pulled his now-very-chipped hat off-balance when he scratched his head, but righted it before it could fall. Mentally, he noted that he needed new shop-helpers for his store since Walker became unavaliable. If he remembered correctly, though, there were two very unlikely souls from the Rukongai that witnessed Tessai perform their illegal _kidou_, and he could find them—

He sneezed.

Urahara frowned. He attempted to continue his train of thought, but was interrupted by another sneeze.

And another.

Oh, and another.

_He must've found out, then,_ he thought with a pleased look on his face. Sinking deeper into the water, he knew that somehow, somewhere, a familiar orange-haired teenager was cursing him to death and completely forgetting the fact that he was already dead.

And indeed, he was absolutely right.

* * *

"_Stupid idiot of a —"_

They had just exited the sewer from the hatch closest to their goal. Now following Hanatarou and Walker who seemed to know his way around Seireitei, Ichigo found himself falling behind. He didn't care, as he finally took the time to curse Urahara for each and every incident he had to endure.

Ichigo came to a stop when he crashed into Hanatarou. Looking to see the reason why, he froze. Even _he_ could recognize the shinigami in front of them.

Walker gasped, response belated. When he spoke, his voice was choked.

"Y—"

"_Moyashi?_"

What happened next was, to be frank, the last thing Ichigo expected from either of them. Walker's eyes widened. A tiny part of his reiatsu suppression lifted. "My name is _Allen_!"

At that, he spun around and clapped to an invisible audience. "BaKanda truly has the greatest way of greeting someone after so many years, do you not agree?"

"Shut up! At least _I'm_ not the one that went insane after killing the Earl and —"

Walker's eyes darkened. "And you killed me."

Kanda didn't answer. He unsheathed his blade and then pointed it toward them. "The Gotei 13 has issued orders to capture the _intruders_ on sight. Are you with them?"

"I am."

There was no warning when Kanda disappeared. The next thing Ichigo knew was the sound of steel clashing upon steel, as Walker raised his blade to defend against the other.

"Then we are no longer allies," Kanda completed.

Walker gathered the reishi under his feet. "No. Not at this time. Hanatarou!"

The poor guy jumped. "Y—yes, sir?"

"Go, _now_. Take Kurosaki and continue to the palace. I will finish this battle and meet up with you."

In the next instant, both he and Kanda were gone.

* * *

Somehow — and Ichigo had no idea how — Hanatarou managed to drag him away. And somehow, Ichigo found himself wandering through the streets of Seireitei following someone else with no clue where he was going.

The only thing he had going for him was that Walker mentioned a palace. And also, Hanatarou knew the way.

...

"Hey, Hanatarou."

A tiny bit of Ichigo felt sorry when yet again, the poor guy jumped. "Y—yes?"

"What's this palace?"

"The Palace of Remorseful Sin."

Ichigo frowned. "I need more to work on than that."

"W-well, I don't know much about how it works," Hanatarou admitted. "But the worst criminals are executed at Soukyoku Hill. They stay at the palace for a week or something. Miss Rukia's date of execution is in about a week, so she should have been transferred there already."

Ichigo nodded, but stopped. "How do you know her date of ex—execution?"

"Well, um." Hanatarou shied away from the sudden increase in reiatsu, but Ichigo reigned it in before it could do too much lasting damage. "It's gossip. They say the Women's Association tried to sell tickets, but they couldn't because the Soukyoku is too dangerous to be around. Even if it's pretty."

Before Ichigo managed to comment on the fact that they were selling _tickets_ for Rukia's _execution_, a voice interrupted him.

"Ichigo!"

Chad ran up to him, his right arm armoured in some strange red material.

Barely trailing behind, Yoruichi grinned one of his cat grins as he peddled closer. "Carrot-top!"

Ichigo twitched. "Don't call me that!" He then turned to his tall friend. "It's good to see you, Chad. How did you find us?"

"Yoruichi was taking me to Rukia. Us?" Chad asked.

There was an awkward moment of realization when they all noticed Hanatarou hiding in Ichigo's shadow.

Hanatarou gave a bow so quick that Ichigo almost missed it. "I—I am Fourth Squad's Seventh Seat, Yamada Hanatarou. It's nice to meet you."

"Oh? You've got yourself a healer, Ichigo," Yoruichi drawled. "It's nice to meet you too. I'm Yoruichi, and the big one's Sado Yasutora."

Hanatarou bowed again. "Thank you...a-Ah, excuse me, Sado?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to heal the wound on your left arm?"

Almost in unison, all three of them followed Hanatarou's line of sight, not having noticed anything wrong. And sure enough, there was a wound. It was small, probably caused by a zanpakuto, but it would definitely have affected Chad's performance in battle.

"I don't mind." Chad shrugged.

Hanatarou hurried over. He did something Ichigo couldn't see, and in a glow of light the wound was gone.

Chad swung his arm. Satisfied, he pat the shinigami's shoulder. "Thanks."

Hanatarou would have stuttered something again, had Yoruichi not interrupted by clearing his throat. "In case you haven't noticed, we still have to go."

"Go where?"

They all turned around at the new voice, and saw a large, hulking man. He made no effort to hide his strength with rippling muscles folded beneath his uniform, and the sheer amount of unhealed scars showed combat experience beyond comprehension.

From behind his shoulder, a pink-haired girl grinned. "This is going to be fun, Ken-chan!"

Kenpachi smiled. "Yes, it is."


	4. Chapter 03: A Jail Called Remorse

**Title: **New Divide  
**Category: **Bleach and D. Gray-man  
**Rating: **T  
**Pairing:** N/A  
**Summary:** With time, things change. People change. In the past, Allen Walker fell with the Millennium Earl. In the present, trials begin for those living. In the future, Soul Society faces the greatest threat to them ever yet. —_"My name is Sosuke Aizen."—_

**A/N: **I've gone and done some sketches for this to get myself back into it, so you can find what Allen and Kanda sorta look like at this point at _http :/ /fav. me/d3g0j2h_ (remove the spaces)

Also, I haven't read any DGM post-186. So there **will be things incorrect from canon**. Probably. Understand it's all my personal theorymaking from two years ago, when this story was plotted. (That's why I haven't been reading, because it'll probably step on and squish everything I've been working on.)

—

**New Divide**

- Chapter Three -

_A Jail Called Remorse_

—

Upon the Earl's fall, it were as if a switch had been flicked. When he was alive, it had been his influence that prevented Dark Matter from undergoing decay.

Now it turned unstable.

Once it began to destroy itself, anyone possessing it went insane. They were turned into savage beasts without any thought; they just wanted the pain to stop.

Dark Matter was bound to a person's soul. And when there was none left, it devoured the body and then the mind. It was not like a Hollow, in which they only had no soul.

They would be eaten from the inside out.

* * *

The location they had flash stepped to was a simple plain; a rarity, when it came to the Seireitei. The plain had evidently been used plenty of times in the past for battle and training purposes, with dents in the earth and fragments of black fabric from ripped shinigami uniforms scattered in the dust.

There, Kanda just watched without words as the moyashi's blade changed. Allen, likewise, didn't speak, only staring his opponent down as if he were trying to determine how much Kanda knew.

And Kanda knew; Allen had called upon his zanpakuto's _shikai_ without speaking. That meant he would be facing against someone with enough mastery over their blade to achieve the ultimate release, _bankai_. That did not mean he was fazed in the slightest. He was close enough to achieving his own bankai. To face Allen, he only needed to adjust his fighting strategy.

Kanda took advantage of the pause in battle to swing Mugen around. It was most certainly not his Innocence, only a cheap imitation, but it felt comfortable enough in his hands; almost as if it were an echo of his former blade, created for him in the afterlife.

"_Unsheathe, Mugen!_" he called. Almost bankai still meant unachievance, and a need to call his zanpakuto's name to bring it to its first release.

Visibly, Mugen showed no change. Most would have presumed his shikai to be a bluff, but Kanda knew that Mugen was a spirit who believed in efficiency as opposed to show. There were some with unbelievably flashy first releases, but Mugen knew the current form would be the best for his master. Kanda's experience during his life attested to it.

He saw Allen's eyes shift, probably knowing that just because he could not see any visible change didn't mean change was not present. Kanda felt his power increase upon releasing his shikai, his spiritual energy far outdwarfing that of his opponent.

But yet, the moyashi didn't relinquish his tight hold on his own. Allen still kept his reiatsu suppressed, though _something_ should have been there.

Kanda ignored it, and dove first.

The downward slash was easy for Allen to block. Kanda knew that. He continued his onslaught, changing the direction of his blade. He was not fighting for the other's blood, not yet, merely gauging his opponent's skills. Allen retaliated, rising to the challenge. For several moments they exchanged blows, flash stepping higher and higher.

Allen's spiritual pressure remained unchanged. In contrast, Kanda only became more and more irritated after every blow. It did not show on his face or in his form, though his muscles were slightly tenser and his reiatsu began to waver. Allen wasn't taking him seriously; just because he could _bankai_ didn't mean he was a step above the rest.

_Patience_, Mugen told him, though he heard the growl in the spirit's words. _He is trying to rile you. Do not fall._

When Allen's blade then flew toward his chest, Kanda didn't have time to answer. He parried it aside and attacked before his opponent could take advantage of his opening. Allen blocked, too slow. Kanda took that instant to flash step behind and change his sword form.

Amidst the clashing blades, Kanda made his assessment. Allen played defensively. He chose to block most of the time, and barely made any attacks. It was not the technique of someone who mastered their sword enough to achieve bankai. In Allen's hands, the weapon hindered him; held him back. The two prongs rendered his blade weaker and more fragile. He was too accustomed to fighting with a claw or an oversized sword — the form his zanpakuto took made no sense.

But Kanda found the reason for the prongs soon enough. Without warning, the moyashi had somehow hooked Mugen between them, and Kanda didn't need all his experience to know that it would be dangerous to extract. The angle was just too far.

Suspended fifteen feet in the air, the two entered a sort of stalemate.

"I don't want to fight you, Kanda," Allen said. His left sleeve fluttered, torn during some point in the battle.

Kanda didn't answer. He was busy running through a list of the magic-based _kidou_ in his mind. Though he wasn't proficient, there should have been something to get him out of the predicament. Mugen's abilities would not work here.

Allen continued. "We were allies—"

"Were."

"Yes, but—"

"We no longer work for the Organization. It has been erased from history. We have been erased."

"...I thought so."

"You are with the intruders. We," Kanda said, "are enemies. I intend not to lose. _Way of Binding #4: Crawling Rope!_"

Upon casting the spell, bright yellow electricity flew from his fingertips. It arced through the air in Allen's direction, binding his arms to the side of his body before he had time to react. A second was all it took for him to throw it off, testimony to his sheer, cloaked spiritual energy, but a second could be too long.

Kanda slid back a few steps. He knew would need to create an opening if he wanted to finish this quickly. Fingers placed firmly against the blade, he slid them down and felt Mugen's energy surge through his bones.

"_Hell's Insects!_"

Where there were once six or seven of the creatures when he had been alive, this new Mugen released somewhere near fifteen. They were also far more durable, and after all his training, fast enough to catch eighty-five percent of flash stepping shinigami.

Allen dodged slower than Kanda had anticipated; his speed in the top thirteen or fourteen percent. But the dodge was exactly as planned. Hell's Insects could change direction, and now they were spread far enough to come in at all sides. It was not a perfect attack, but would create the opening that was needed.

But there was something wrong. Kanda only had to approach to know.

Allen's sleeve was uncut.

He got his answer when the Hell's Insects attacked and Allen — or the image of Allen — deflated before floating to the ground.

"I see," Allen's voice said. "Urahara should make more of these inflatable _gigai_."

Kanda spun around to find his opponent looking curiously at the Hell's Insects dissolve. They could never maintain fast speeds and keep substance for long. The slow speed of his opponent was also explained far too clearly; Allen must have switched the dummy before flash stepping away.

"Time to finish this." Allen said, smiling sadly. He tilted his blade to reflect the sunlight. "_Bankai_."

Before Kanda knew it, the light within Allen's zanpakuto grew. A huge, blinding glare assaulted his vision, preventing him from seeing anything at all. Reflexively, Kanda felt his senses heighten as he adopted a defensive stance.

Fighting blind was not uncommon when facing against akuma, whenever smoke and rain decided to intervene.

But unlike fighting akuma, Kanda had no idea whether Allen had the ability to see in the light. No good fighter ever willingly created a situation where they lose the advantage, so he had to act upon the assumption that he could. Kanda set about making a plan to countermand that, but first he needed to know where the moyashi was.

He stayed still. There was no use trying to track the other's reiatsu; he needed to rely on all his other senses to build an image for him.

...

To the front—no, right. Seven...Eight feet?

_Now!_

Just because Kanda couldn't sense Allen's reiatsu didn't mean he couldn't try feeling the reiyoku in the air. As they were fighting in the air, those spirit particles would convene whenever either of them moved. Barely imperceptible, Kanda took advantage now that he knew Allen's rough location and began his own string of attacks.

The speed in which he used Mugen was not his fastest; blind, he could easily be thrown off balance and taken by surprise. Even attacking would have been an impatient mistake, but each twist had been carefully calculated to leave the tiniest opening to one side.

When the moyashi took advantage of it he would be prepared, no matter the direction.

Sure enough, he felt something graze his upper sleeve. Now he knew the location of his enemy, Kanda instantly brought Mugen around to meet him. The moment his arm was cut, he adjusted his swing according to the angle of Allen's zanpakuto.

Mugen made contact with thin air, and Kanda's eyes widened when a blade rested upon his neck.

"You fight well," Allen's voice said in his ear. Kanda didn't reply, but his throat tightened on both reflex and annoyance. "But you wouldn't have won."

He knew his move had been stupid, impulsive, but to have it rubbed in his face became the last straw. "_Moyashi_—"

Kanda never finished, because at that moment he'd been struck in the head and knocked out cold. Allen disengaged the shikai and sheathed his sword. He picked Kanda up, descending back to the ground and then half-hid the body behind a rock outcropping. It wouldn't be perfect, but would delay discovery for at least a few hours.

But after he'd jumped up and prepared to flash step away, he hesitated.

"It's different from before. You were the best," he murmured. "If we meet again, I hope it's on better terms." Pause. "Not when I have an unfair advantage."

He disappeared, following the spirit signature he knew too well.

* * *

Allen Walker did not know, but he had it lucky. When his Noah had gone insane, his soul only survived because he'd been one of the first to die.

The rest of the Noah, the akuma and CROW had no chance. They tore each other apart. All those who could, retreated.

Some of the remaining Finders and Exorcists were killed in the crossfire.

Damage Control became harsh. Such a public incident made it harder to keep the existence of akuma secret. But with no Earl to control the Dark Matter, and thus no akuma or Noah to survive, there was no longer any threat.

The Vatican ordered Central to disband the Dark Religious Organization, and the Exorcists were no more.

* * *

It was more than fact.

They were lost.

Orihime bit her lip to suppress the words that wanted to come out of her mouth. Most of them consisted of countless apologies, and those that weren't were offers of help and aid. But she held them back, knowing that Ishida wouldn't want anything.

Not from her.

Truthfully, the fact they were lost didn't bother her. She just kept following Ishida as they wandered through the streets of Soul Society. With any luck they wouldn't be selected as a target, especially with the uniforms she'd found for the two of them, but they didn't hide her companion's faint limping.

She knew Ishida had lost all his powers after their encounter with that crazy Kurotsuchi, and would have offered to heal him. But her powers were still drained from the Quincy absorption technique, and she still felt exhausted from the effects of Ashisogi Jizou's poison.

A small part of her wondered whether she could restore Ishida's powers, since her Souten Kisshun reverted time back to before any wounds were inflicted. No, probably not. The after effect of his ability made him build a resistance to those powers. He would never become a Quincy ever again.

They passed a few more streets, and it soon became a question of which one happened to be following the other. She was following him since he was in front, but he kept pausing for her to catch up.

Lost, powerless and confused, Orihime felt so _useless_.

Without warning, Ishida clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her into the crack between two buildings.

"Shh," he whispered.

Orihime freed herself from his grip and manoeuvred around to try and see what was happening. It turned out she didn't need to, since two shadows fell past them.

"Should you really be here?" One of the shinigami asked. His voice felt familiar.

There was almost a low chuckle in reply. "You know as well as I do that they won't _see_ me, Gin."

Ichimaru Gin had been the Captain at the gate, Orihime recalled. Silver hair, expression like a fox...

"Right," Ichimaru said. "Nice show ya' put on earlier today. When this plan is over Hinamori won't know what hit her."

"I never assumed she would attack you, but your handling of the situation surpassed my predictions. As did Izuru Kira."

"But not your expectations. Right, Captain?"

The unknown 'Captain' gave one of those strange chuckling half-laughs again, and Orihime couldn't help shrinking at the sound. "Indeed."

"You know, I met him with his intruder friends. That Kurosaki Ichigo. Does he know?"

"Not at the moment."

"Gotcha. I'll take that as confirmation we're moving to the next stage."

"Of course," the second person replied. "However, there are further modifications to the plan..."

Orihime frowned when the shadows moved away, the voices fading with them. She inched forward, making sure to stay hidden against the wall, but froze when her foot slid across a loud bit of gravel.

The shadows stopped.

Her heart hitched, and started beating far too loudly. Ishida wouldn't have been able to help her because they'd trapped themselves in a dead-end without meaning to, and the two of them were drained. _Please don't hear me,_ she prayed,_ please don't..._

She forgot to breathe when a blade flew shot by her ear and lodged behind her. Upon closer inspection, it had come _through_ the wall. The best way to describe it would be by saying that somehow it extended from where the shadows stood to where they were.

Then the truth hit her — that had been the ability of Ichimaru's zanpakuto.

But they'd run out of time, since a person had appeared at the entrance. Garbed with a white coat over his uniform, the dark hair and glasses informed her it was most definitely not Ichimaru Gin; the second person from the conversation.

"You have rats," the man stated just when the sword retracted again. Ichimaru appeared beside the 'Captain' moments after.

"They weren't here before," he replied. "Do ya' want me to handle them?"

"No, I should this time."

Behind her, Orihime felt Ishida stumble as he approached them at those words. "What do you want?"

The man just smiled. "You should stay away from what does not concern you."

Somehow, those sincere brown eyes turned sinister as he unsheathed the zanpakuto at his side before dropping it to the ground.

"_Shatter, Kyoka Suigetsu._"

* * *

Those who once worked in the Organization found themselves jobless. Few held proper credentials and an ability to interact with the outside world, as most of the current generation were born into the closed group.

Any experience they possessed could not help them either; the Dark Religious Organization had been wiped from the record books — how could one explain a non-existent past in tracking down demons that did not exist?

Kanda Yu had no proper history. He was a Second Exorcist, a creation from those with near-enough Compatibility. He never existed as a person. Returning to Japan, he tried to join the military and put his skills to good use, but they had long modernized into western weaponry.

For two years, he floated around with no apparent goal in mind. Eventually, he killed himself on the sixth of June, on his twenty-first birthday.

But his scar remained after death, marking the Innocence's forced binding to his soul.


End file.
